Take Me, Kill Me
by hel1234
Summary: “Harry Potter.” He spat in his cold, high voice. “Harry Potter must be killed.” Voldemorts desire; his obsession has grown. And when all plans fail, when all hope is lost, Voldemort looks to someone younger, more innocent to do what he never could
1. Default Chapter

Chapter One - Plotting a murder.  
  
The cold air was still and silent. Not a sound reached the ears of the hooded, masked figures that stood in a large circle around an armchair sitting beside a fire. They stood silently and waited, each one with a slight tingle of fear running through their bodies. However small the tingle was, it was there; it was always there.  
Suddenly, the flames flickering in the fire place turned bright, emerald green, and a tall, hooded man stepped out of them. The flames returned to their usual form, and the tall man took his hood down slowly. Two red, gleaming, terrible eyes shone out from a flat, chalk-white face. Slit-like nostrils stood above a lipless mouth, and anger was etched upon every line of the terrible face of Lord Voldemort. He stared around at the masked wizards surrounding him and his eyes flared. Each of the Death Eaters bowed slightly in respect. He sat down in the armchair facing the fire and did not speak.  
Finally, one of the masked Death Eaters stood forward and spoke to the back of the chair, and to the spider-like, long white fingers clutching the arms of the chair.  
"My Lord," he said in a clear voice.  
"What orders do you bring us?" Voldemort remained silent. The Death Eater stood back into the circle. A few seconds later, Voldemort rose to his feet and faced them all.  
"Harry Potter." He spat in his cold, high voice. Some of the Death Eaters quickly glanced at each other.  
"Harry Potter must be killed." Every syllable seemed to ring with detest and rage. He stared at them all.  
"I have the plan, but I do not have the resources. I need to bewitch a student at Hogwarts to do it. Someone in his year. Someone who can get close enough to him to kill him. But it is proving harder than I thought. Dumbledore seems to have his eye on every student in that school at once, the fool. I need someone, I need to act quickly." he placed his long, white fingers on his forehead, and appeared deep in thought. Suddenly he looked directly at the Death Eater in front of him. His eyes seemed to widen in realisation.  
"Malfoy!" he shrieked, his lipless mouth curling into a smile. The man behind the mask, Lucious Malfoy stepped backwards a little out of surprise, and out of fear.  
"Lucious, you have a son at Hogwarts, do you not?" Malfoy seemed to guess where this was going, but he daren't not disagree with Voldemort.  
"Yes, Draco is in his sixth year now, but - "  
"Potter is in his sixth year, too! Lucious, I can use Draco to kill Potter! Why didn't I see it before!" Malfoy looked frightened now. The Death eaters around him were agreeing too.  
"But Draco is -" Voldemort placed his white, thin hands on Malfoy's shoulders and beamed at him.  
"Your son will be prized beyond others when he joins me, he will be honoured in this circle for ever -" then, noticing the unsmiling, fearful look on Malfoy's face, Voldemort's smile faded and his eyes flashed dangerously.  
"That is, " he said silkily.  
"If he will be joining me...perhaps you wish him to join Dumbledore. Perhaps YOU wish to join Dumbledore, Lucious!" Voldemort's icy glare was penetrating Malfoy. Panic spreading through him , he spoke quickly,  
"No! Of course not, my Lord! I would never dream of joining Dumbledore! I am loyal to you an -"  
"And the boy?" Voldemort cut across him. Malfoy was defeated.  
"Yes, yes, he will do your bidding. Forgive me, Master." Voldemort's eyes lost their iciness and returned to their usual form. He nodded, and went and sat back down in his armchair.  
"You may go." He said to the circle of Death Eater's, raising a pale hand. And in a swish of black cloaks, the circle was gone.  
  
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	2. The Dream

There was silence in the great house as everyone slept soundly. The only sound, was the owls outside, hooting softly, and the portraits on the walls, snoozing in their frames. But suddenly, the silence was broken by an ear splitting yell.  
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" the voice of the Malfoy's sixteen year old son, Draco echoed through the house like a thousand yells.  
He was sat bolt upright in his bed, his face paler than usual and his pale blue eyes wide open. His breathing was in short, sharp gasps and his heart was beating horribly fast. He raised a trembling hand to his face and felt tears splashed across his cheeks. He quickly wiped his eyes and face, and stared into the mirror opposite his bed, his breathing returning to normal. It had been a nightmare, he told himself. It was just a nightmare, it wasn't real. But it had felt real.  
He heard footsteps approaching his room swiftly and the door burst open. His mother walked in first, hurrying over to him, and her face alert with worry. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly.  
"Oh, Draco," she said worriedly.  
"What's wrong, darling?" Draco pushed his mother away gently and began to get back into bed.  
"It's nothing, mother, just another nightmare. That's all." He smiled at her and laid his head back on the pillow, trying to ignore the cold sweat growing up around the back of his neck. His mother's eyes filled with tears as she smoothed his blonde hair unnecessarily.  
"Ok, my darling, just try and sleep." She got up and as she walked past Draco's father, she looked at him for a second and began crying once more, her sobs echoing down the hall. Lucius Malfoy looked at his son for a moment, smiled sadly and walked out after his mother. He knew why they were both so upset. His father had told Draco two nights ago what Voldemort wanted to do with him. Lord Voldemort wanted to use him, Draco, to kill someone. His father hadn't told him who, but only that he must do as Voldemort wished or he would be killed, as would Draco and Draco's mother.  
Draco had been having nightmares ever since he had been told. The one he had just had had definitely been the worst. He had been in the Hogwarts Entrance Hall and he had seen Professor Sprout, she had asked him what he was doing out so late at night, and he had Stunned her. He then walked up the stairs and saw no one about; it must have been at night. He went on up, silently, and reached a large portrait of a large lady in a pink dress. She seemed to wake up from a sleep, and asked him drowsily for the password; he had given it to her. He walked into a room littered with armchairs and squishy chairs, and looked around. He saw a large Gryffindor flag draped across one of the walls; this must be the Gryffindor Common Room and he must have been in Gryffindor Tower. He walked on up some stairs and found himself walking through a door, into a room of beds; the boys dormitories. He was walking over to the bed furthest from him and as he approached it, he saw Harry Potter lying asleep in his bed. He took his wand out and pointed it directly at Harry.  
Suddenly, Harry had ripped open his eyes and stared at Draco, then he grabbed his arm. It all happened in a flash of red light; Draco had been jerked forward and thrust into a bright red light, he jammed his eyes shut. When he opened them, he noticed he was in a graveyard and it was night time. He suddenly felt a searing pain run down a line on his forehead, it was almost unbearable, the pain was white hot and it was pummelling against his head. He felt a long white finger touch his cheek and the pain intensified; he was screaming now. He turned his head slowly to look at the owner of the finger and fear shot through his body as he saw the face come into focus. Lord Voldemort was laughing in his high, cold voice.  
Then he had woken up. He had never been in so much pain; he had never been so scared. It was just a nightmare, he repeated to himself. But it hadn't just been a nightmare; he had seen what Harry Potter must have seen, must have been through. And now, his father wanted him to kill someone on Voldemort's orders. To murder somebody. Draco had never killed anybody, he didn't want to, he wouldn't have minded torturing a few of the people he hated when he was older, but never kill anybody. Not now at least. He blocked these thoughts from his mind, and slowly, very slowly fell asleep once more.  
  
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	3. Cornered

There was an unnatural stillness at the dinner table that evening that not only Draco felt. Draco pushed his food around his plate subconsciously, every sound making him jump and the silence drumming in his ear. His mother was staring at the table, every now and then straightening up and swallowing hard; she didn't touch her plate. Draco's father ate his food normally but anyone could see he was on edge as he gripped his goblet a little too hard.  
"He shall be here soon." Lucius Malfoy's voice cut into the silence, his tone sharp and alert. Draco took a deep, shuddering breath; this was it. He raised his eyes to his father's face. Why is he putting me through this? Draco thought hotly. Why is he making me see him? His father didn't look at him when he spoke.  
"Draco, if you are ready, come with me now." Draco was not ready. He would never be ready. He was ready to run from this room, this house, run from him, but he was not ready to see him, to meet him. These thoughts were useless; he could not hide from Lord Voldemort, or his father. He stood up, and walked over to his father silently. There was no eye contact. They walked silently from the room, leaving his mother staring at them with horribly bright eyes as they closed the door. The hallway in which they were walking seemed longer and less safe than usual, Draco could feel his father walking very close to him and wished he wasn't there. They were approaching a small door at the side of the hallway, and Draco knew that must be where he would be meeting him. Him; Lord Voldemort.  
They reached the door, and his father put his hand on the doorknob. Suddenly, Draco seized his father's arm and pulled it sharply away from the door. Lucius looked at his son in surprise.  
"Father." Draco croaked in a frightened, trembling voice. He was still clutching his father's arm tightly.  
"Please, I don't want to." He pleaded urgently. He couldn't go in that room; he wouldn't. His father's face had hardened and his eyes were icy.  
"You will do as I say, Draco." He said coldly. Draco did not understand his father, why was he doing this to him? Lucius prized Draco's hands off of his arm roughly and turned to the door once more. This time, Draco didn't touch him, instead, he ran past his father as fast as he could, sprinting as he hadn't done in a long time. He expected to hear his father's footsteps behind him but he didn't, he heard his father's angry voice bellow,  
"ACCIO!" The spell hit him in the back and he felt his whole body lift off the ground, and then wrenched backwards. He skidded painfully onto the floor and lay in a heap at his father's feet. He felt his father grab the neck of his robes and pull him roughly to his feet.  
"Idiot boy!" his father hissed at him. Draco was fighting back the urge to either hit his father, or cry.  
"Father, please." Draco moaned.  
"I don't want to do what you do; I don't want to kill people yet. I'm only sixteen.please." The tears were actually brimming in his eyes now, and he wiped them away ferociously. Lucius was staring at his son with the same coldness he had before, but with a slight softness in his face.  
"The Dark Lord needs you, Draco. He needs you for his plan. His need, his - his obsession of killing Harry Potter is so great it is all he thinks about. But he cannot get near him, he." Draco didn't hear the rest of what his father was saying. Harry Potter. Lord Voldemort wanted him to kill Harry Potter. A numb disbelief and chill rushed over him as he remembered the dream, the dream where he, Draco, had been Harry in the graveyard, being tortured by Voldemort. Sure enough, he hated Potter, and always had done, but he had wouldn't kill him; he was only bluffing when he said he was going to, he didn't really mean it. He looked around himself for something that would explain it to him, but when he looked forward he just saw a door opening in front of him, a blurred voice and something pushing him hard in the back, pushing him into the room. The door closed. He was in an empty room, except for two chairs and a fire crackling in the fireplace. This must be where he would be meeting Voldemort, he thought. He turned and ran at the door, but it was locked shut. He whipped out his wand and shouted,  
"ALOE HAMORA!" Nothing happened. He repeated the spell desperately, but it didn't unlock the door. He rattled the door knob frantically but the door didn't budge.  
"Father!" he screamed.  
"Father, please..please." It was useless, his father would not come. Suddenly, a flash of green light illuminated the walls and then vanished. A dark shadow was silhouetted against the wall. A tall, thin, hooded shadow. Draco turned slowly to face the source of the shadow. He was met by two gleaming red eyes, with cat-like slits, featured on a flat, chalk-white face.  
  
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The only sound that Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy heard from their son their son that day, when he was in that room, was a short, muffled shriek.  
  
* Thanks for all the reviews!! Keep them coming please!! 


	4. They meet Hogwarts Express

Harry pushed his way through the crowd of bustling Hogwarts Students and stepped onto the train. He looked over the heads of the crowd, trying to spot Hermione or Ron, but he couldn't see them, he sighed and just as he was about to turn, he noticed a nastily familiar face watching him. His shining, blonde hair, a pale pointed face, and icy blue eyes made him stand out in the crowd; not that he needed to, he was standing quite alone, no Crabbe or Goyle were flanking him now. Draco Malfoy was staring at him, his eyes fixed into Harry's. Their gaze met for a few moments, and Harry suddenly felt the smallest of twinges in his scar, but then he was shuffled forward and Malfoy was out of sight. Harry turned and walked down past all of the compartments, Malfoy's eyes still fresh in his mind; they were rimmed with dark lines, a sure sign of sleepless nights and what was more, there had been something there Harry had never seen before, a terrible hatred. Of course, Malfoy had always hated Harry, always, but this time it was different; this time, it was quite strange.  
He moved past a few more compartments, rubbing his scar, puzzled. As he passed one he noticed a patch of vivid red hair visible through the gap in the compartment door. Harry recognised this immediately as Ron's. He pushed open the compartment door, and Ron and Hermione turned round. Both their faces broke into grins.  
"Harry!" said Hermione. Harry sat down opposite the two of them. They looked different, both of them.  
"Hi," grinned Harry.  
"Alright?" he asked them. They both nodded. Ron sighed happily, openly expressing his happiness at them all being together again. But Harry doubted even Ron was more pleased to be back with them both than he was. He had missed them a great deal over the summer, even though they both sent letters, and rung him on the "felly tone" as Ron had called it, quite often. Dumbledore had written to him over the summer, too, keeping him updated on everything that was going on, but not releasing too much in case it fell into the wrong hands. He had asked Harry how he was, and asked him to tell him if anything was wrong. Harry had felt a bit guilty for the way he had treated Dumbledore in that meeting they had had after Sirius' death, and realised that Dumbledore was only trying to protect him.  
Sirius. Harry had tried to put Sirius to the back of his mind over the summer, but during those long, lonely hours at Number Four, Privet Drive, Sirius kept appearing in his mind. Guilt, despair and sadness were all he had felt when he thought of Sirius, there was no escaping it. But towards the end of the holidays, the pain lessened slightly, as the thought of returning to Hogwarts captivated him.  
"Well, I have to say, Harry, you missed a great laugh when you missed the "home-coming" of Percy." Ron snorted when he mentioned Percy's name. Harry laughed too, and Hermione frowned but she did smile slightly. Percy has completely disowned himself from the Weasley family last year, when he had joined the Ministry of Magic's defiant campaign of ignoring the fact that Lord Voldemort had returned, and wasting no time in announcing to the world that both Dumbledore and Harry were disturbed in the mind; in other words, lunatics.  
"He came home somewhere at the beginning of August, we heard Mum scream from downstairs, and all ran down. Honestly, you would have thought she had been attacked the way she screamed! Anyway, we got down there and looking like a droopy duck, there was Percy with his head drooping, looking very ashamed of himself." Ron was telling them this with what looked like disgust.  
"Mum started hugging him and crying her eyes out, and we all just stood there, you know, Dad too, looking at him. After a while, he pushed Mum away and made this speech about how foolish and arrogant he had been, how sorry he was, blah blah blah. Dad walked over to him, and hugged him and the great idiot started crying. Finally we all forgave him, and he's now back to his normal, bossy self. He's in the Order, now and seems to have lost a lot of respect for Fudge which is a good thing, believe me." Ron sighed and started rummaging about in his bag.  
"Well I'm so glad Percy's seen sense. He was being so childish before.it's nice for you to all be a family again isn't it, Ron?" Hermione asked. Ron gave a short "Mmm" and carried on rummaging through his bag. Finally he pulled out an envelope.  
"Here you are." He passed the envelope to Harry. Harry took it, and read his name written in black ink on the front. Harry looked up at Ron, puzzled.  
"From Percy." Ron explained.  
"He's given me one for Dumbledore as well. He says he has to apologize to the people he has upset." Ron rolled his eyes and grinned. Harry slit open the envelope and read.  
  
Dear Harry,  
I am writing to apologize most sincerely for my behaviour this year. I was foolish to believe the false and prudent words of the Daily Prophet, and Cornelius Fudge. You were telling the truth all along and.  
  
But Harry stopped reading abruptly when pain seared through his scar. He clamped his hands over his forehead and shuddered. White-hot pain was creeping down the lightning bolt scar on his forehead, his ears were ringing and his head felt as though it might split. Then, just as soon as it had come, it was gone. The volume had turned back up, and he heard Ron and Hermione's frightened voices.  
"Harry! Harry!" Hermione called, grabbing his hand and squeezing it tightly. Her face looked scared and he eyes were wide. Ron had gone slightly pale and looked very anxious.  
"Are you alright?" he said in a shocked voice. Harry sat up and put his head in his hands, then looked up at them.  
"Yeah, yeah..I'm fine, I think I'll just go to the - er, the toilet.." He stood up, and walked over to the door, swaying slightly; he pulled it open, and walked out, closing it behind him. There was sweat on his face and around his neck, as he leant against the compartment door. Why had his scar just hurt him so much? Was Voldemort angry? But his scar hadn't hurt him much over the summer at all, just the few odd pangs, and Voldemort surely must have been angry at some point, mustn't he? Harry looked from left to right down the corridor, it seemed deserted, he walked towards the toilet at the end. As he walked, he heard footsteps approaching swiftly behind him, he looked over his shoulder, and seeing who it was, Harry spun around.  
Malfoy was standing there, the same height as Harry, his cold, blue eyes piercing him. His hand was halfway into his robes, but he withdrew then quickly as he looked over Harry's shoulder. Harry looked around, too. Colin Creevey and another fifth year boy were walking down the corridor towards them. Colin saw Harry and his face lit up.  
"It's Harry!" he said to his friend, excitedly.  
"Hiya Harry!" he called to Harry. Harry smiled politely.  
"Er, hi, Colin." He said.  
"Good Summer?" Colin asked, beaming. Colin's friend looked very pleased that Harry was standing in front of him. Harry thought that this time last year, he would have been cowering or edging away from him; but now the truth was out, people were starting to think he was something of a hero.  
"Yeah, great." Harry lied quickly. Colin beamed even more.  
"Well, me and Andy here are looking for Simon Pyke, have you seen him, Harry?"  
"Um, no. Sorry." Harry had never heard of, or seen a Simon Pyke in his life. Colin sighed, still smiling.  
"Oh, well. See you, Harry!" he called walking past him and Malfoy. Harry turned back to Malfoy. His hand was back in his robes. Harry frowned.  
"Did you want something?" he asked coldly. Malfoy's eyes flashed, and Harry thought he saw, with horror, a slit instead of a pupil. But when Draco blinked again, his eyes were still their normal, cold blue. He edged closer to Harry, pulling out his wand and pointing it at him. Harry's scar was starting to tingle now as he stared into Malfoy's eyes, and then it happened again.  
His scar burst open with pain and he fell to the floor. He clutched the pain intensifying swiftly in his head. White-hot and blinding, he could not see anything around him. He was screaming with a voice that he could not hear. Help! He was yelling. Somebody help me! The pain was so terrible he felt as though he was dying. In the distance he heard voices, very distant voices calling to him, shrieking. He opened his for a brief moment and saw that Malfoy was gone. Then, blackness.  
  
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	5. Visions

There was drowsiness in Draco's eyes the next day that he could not shake off. He felt tired and worn out although his memory of the last couple of days was completely blank. He was back at Hogwarts, and it was Thursday morning, yet he could not think of anything that had happened recently. He had seen his reflection in the mirror that morning and was surprised to see his face pale and thin with large bags under his eyes, his hair dishevelled and his eyes alert with a strange brightness. He had slept in his robes and the dormitory had been empty when he awoke; something was not right.  
As he made his way up to breakfast he heard clumsy footsteps behind him. Who else would it be but Crabbe and Goyle? The brainless idiots. So as not to cause suspicion, he told them he had a headache and wanted to be alone for a while. They looked rather put-out but walked off in the opposite direction. To the Great Hall, I shouldn't bet, to start pigging out on breakfast, he thought, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He had just reached the library, when he noticed two annoyingly familiar figures; Hermione Granger, mudblood and teacher's pet, he thought grudgingly. God, you could recognise her from miles away, with that bushy mop of hers, well, he thought slyly, apart from if she was with a pack of beavers! And Ron Weasley, tall and lanky with bright red hair, the shabbiness of his robes reminded Draco of a slightly clean tramp! Draco hung back in the shadows, listening to what they were saying.  
"It must have been his scar, when I saw him he was so still, just curled up on the floor, clutching his head, and when Ernie turned his over, he looked so pale; Oh, Ron, I thought he was dead!" Hermione's voice was edged with sadness and fear. Draco thought they must be talking about Potter, hence the word "scar". He listened on, hoping something amusing had happened to Potter.  
"I know, but he'll be alright. You saw him, you heard Madame Pomfrey:" Ron imitated Madame Pomfrey's high, strict voice.  
" "He'll be fine, he just needs rest. I've dealt with scars before, don't you doubt it, and this one is different, but I think he's recovering swiftly." " Ron smiled weakly, and so did Hermione. So Potter's scar was hurting him, thought Draco, that's all. Slightly disappointed, Draco began to slouch off in the opposite direction, but next moment, he heard Granger speaking more quietly and more quickly.  
"But what do you think triggered it off, Ron? He can't have been near Harry on the train. There's just no way he could have been there!" She glanced quickly around to see if anyone was eavesdropping. She didn't notice Draco lurking in the shadows. Why were they making such a big deal out of a little twinge in Potter's scar? He thought angrily to himself. Probably Dumbledore, probably making sure his golden-boy was in perfect health..  
"I don't know." He said, lowering his voice. He too glanced around, looking for listeners.  
"You know what he's like..you know what he did to Harry last time. He can possess people, Voldemort I mean." Draco felt as though a huge weight had been thrust into his stomach. His knees gave way as he gasped for breath. His eyes were closing, he saw nothing but blackness. Then it came, like an old movie, playing slowly. First, two scarlet eyes, and then they changed into to bright, emerald green ones. Then he felt a surge of some kind of emotion in his stomach, a terrible, burning sensation; anger. He wanted to strike something, to hit it. Then he saw a boy, his height staring into his eyes, staring with those emerald green eyes, the boy had scruffy black hair, and a scar on his forehead. It was Potter, but as he looked into his eyes, his face flashed into chalk-white, and the eyes into scarlet slits, snake-like; frightening. But then his face changed back to Potter's, and Draco felt the surge of anger return, stronger, more brutal. He wanted to strike Potter, he was pulling out his wand, he was pointing it at him, but then the blackness was returning and the anger was fading.  
He was lying on his back, in the dingy corridor outside the library. He tore his eyes open and stared upwards, his breathing fast and short. At first he couldn't make out any of the shapes swimming above him, but as he blinked more and more, they came into focus. Hermione Granger was leaning over him, shaking him. He sat up and looked around, and then forgetting who Hermione was he pulled his arm away from her grip.  
"Get off me, Mudblood!" he said with a dizziness he couldn't express. Hermione didn't say anything, though she frowned slightly. Then he felt a sudden pain in his back, as Ron kicked him. Ron picked him up off the ground and slammed him into the wall in outrage. Draco couldn't move, Ron was pinning him down quite hard.  
"Let go, Weasley!" he spat, though still with the same dizziness. Ron's face was angry and dangerous.  
"Don't you dare call her that!" he hissed, pushing him harder.  
"Ron.." Hermione said weakly, laying a hand on his shoulder. But Ron did not look back at her; he was staring hard into Draco's face.  
"You heard him, Hermione; you heard what he was saying." He leant closer to Draco.  
"What did you do to Harry?" he whispered through gritted teeth. Draco kicked out at Ron, who then let go, clutching his shin. Ron swore loudly and put his leg back down. Draco looked as though he might run away, but he stood his ground. He was not a coward.  
"What are you talking about?" he shot at Ron, massaging his neck. But he could not hide the fear smothering him inside out. Hermione spoke now, in a calm, stern voice.  
"We heard you, Malfoy." She said, her eyes narrowing. Draco was beginning to feel scared. What had he said? What were they talking about? But inside, deep inside, he realised he must have been saying what he had seen in his mind out loud.  
"What did you see when you were on the floor? What did you do?" she pushed on in her calm voice. Draco looked from one to the other, wondering whether he should run for it. But no, that would be cowardly, but he could not explain himself this time. In spite of himself, he turned around and ran away from them as fast as he could.  
"ACCIO!" he heard Hermione shout. He was thrown backwards through the air. His mind went dark, then the slow moving movie-like feature in his mind began again. He was lying crumpled at his father's feet, his father pulled him up, he was facing his father, fearing him.  
"Idiot boy!" his father spat at him. Then he was in a room, a room he could not get out of, and there, there was a tall hooded man, a man with scarlet red eyes. No! he was screaming. NO! but the man was coming towards him, his long, white fingers outstretched..  
"What are you doing?" said an echoing, panicky voice. Then the voice became clearer. Someone was hitting his face. He opened his eyes, and got up. He stumbled, then leant against the wall, panting. What was happening to him? Why was he seeing this? He looked up at Ron and Hermione. They were looking at him as though they thought him mad.  
Then they heard footsteps approaching swiftly. They all turned to see Professor McGonagall striding towards them, her face stern.  
"What is going on here?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as she looked from Ron and Hermione, standing around Draco, then to Draco, leaning against the wall, breathing shortly.  
"Miss Granger? Perhaps you could explain?" she looked expectantly at Hermione. Hermione looked abashed, she mumbled for a while, and then Ron stepped in.  
"Professor, Malfoy was the one who attacked Harry on the train!" he said, not taking his eyes off of Draco. Professor McGonagall looked very taken aback.  
"What are you talking about Weasley?" she breathed, her eyes widening.  
"He just said it," Ron said, still keeping his eyes on Draco, glowering at him.  
"He was lying on the floor, rolling about, calling Harry's name, then he did this thing with his hands, made him look like he was holding an invisible wand or something. Then he said "I'll kill you, Potter." And woke up." He had taken his eyes off of Draco now and looked earnestly into Professor McGonagall's face. She was looking strangely at Ron, and then she looked at Malfoy.  
"It was a - a nightmare, I fainted, sort of." he lamely explained. Then Professor McGonagall looked at Hermione who gulped.  
"He did everything Ron said he did; he was having some sort of, some sort of fit." Hermione was looking at Draco now, rather startled. Professor McGonagall straightened up and looked at Malfoy.  
"Malfoy, I suggest you go up to the hospital wing. See Madame Pomfrey, she'll soon fix you up." Her voice wasn't stern any more, but it wasn't kind either. Malfoy stopped leaning on the wall, and stood up straight.  
"No, I think I'd rather go and lie down..just for a while.." He looked at Professor McGonagall for her approval.  
"As you wish." She said shortly. Then she turned to Ron and Hermione.  
"Weasley, Granger, come with me, Potter has just woken up." All three of them walked past Draco without a word, but Ron glanced back, glaring at him.  
Draco walked back down the corridor, rubbing his head.  
  
*  
  
Up in the hospital wing, Harry was awake. He sat in his bed, rubbing his slightly sore scar, trying to remember what had happened. 


	6. Posession

There was an icy breeze flowing through the castle as Christmas drew near, and Harry felt the coldness even beneath his skin. He had not told anyone about the person he had last seen before he passed out on the train, nor had he told them of the terrible pains he kept feeling in his scar. But even though he didn't tell anyone, Ron and Hermione seemed to be skirting very close around the culprit.  
Malfoy. His was the face he last saw before he fainted, he was the one who had made his scar practically explode. Madame Pomfrey said he could have died, had he not been sent to her so quickly. What Harry really couldn't understand was how could Lord Voldemort have been on the train? How could he have got past all the security? Harry tried to put these thoughts to the back of his mind, and concentrated on the conversation he was having at the moment.  
"So what do you think, Harry?" Ron asked, anxiously.  
"Did you see Malfoy?" Harry looked at both of them; they were both so eager to know, and they were so convinced it was Malfoy.  
"I didn't see anyone." He lied.  
"I just felt my scar hurting and passed out - that's all." Hermione was frowning as she looked at Harry.  
"But Harry," she said, speaking slowly and carefully.  
"You know why your scar hurts you don't you? Its when Voldemort - "  
"I know, I know." He hissed quickly, glancing around to see if anyone was listening. He hated people knowing about his "abnormality"; his scar and why it hurt him. He knew if people knew that Harry felt Voldemort's emotions through it, they would think him strange, perhaps even dangerous.  
"Harry, we heard what Malfoy was saying; there was something really strange happening to him, he was calling your name, and saying weird stuff about you.." Ron was defiant and wanted to find the truth.  
"Look, I don't remember anything, OK? Can we just drop it?" Harry was starting to feel rather sick; he didn't want anyone to know, but he knew something had happened between him and Malfoy that day on the train, it was why his scar had hurt him. He didn't need Ron and Hermione going on about it all the time, forcing him to think about it, to relive the terrible pain he had felt. Their silence told Harry they seemed to understand.  
Just as they made their way up to the Charms classroom, Harry had that strange feeling that somebody was watching him. He looked over his shoulder and didn't see anyone, he turned back around. Then, in front of him he saw Draco Malfoy. He looked quite peaky; his usually sleek blonde hair was messy and dishevelled, and his eyes had dark lines beneath them. Harry couldn't think of anything to say; not in front of Ron and Hermione in any case. Malfoy, apparently couldn't either. They just stared at each other, not looking away. And for the second time, Harry saw with a surge of horror those slit-like pupils in Malfoy's eyes, but when he blinked they were gone. A prickling had started in Harry's scar, but he didn't say anything.  
Ron stepped forward in front of Harry.  
"Excuse us, we're late." He pushed past Malfoy, and Malfoy stumbled. Harry took his eyes away from him, and walked past him, up to where Ron was. They walked silently to the Charms classroom; Ron looked silently angry; Hermione kept on shooting nervous glances at Harry; and Harry had never felt more confused.  
  
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Draco felt like he hadn't slept for years. He ran as fast as he could back to the dormitory, forgetting that he had Transfiguration in less than two minutes; he didn't care, he needed to know. He grabbed a roll of parchment, an ink bottle and his quill. His head was full of questions, and fear, why did he feel so hateful around Potter? He felt as though silent anger rose in him, clutching at him, feeding on him, but then it would vanish, vanish as quickly as it had come. He sat on the floor, and then slid under his bed; he was so skinny it was easy to fit there.  
"Lumos!" he whispered hurriedly to his wand. The darkness around him lit up and the beam of light fell upon the parchment. He dipped his quill in the ink with trembling fingers and checked if anyone was coming. He saw and heard nothing. He began to write; write as the weight of what had happened the last few weeks fell upon him..  
  
Dear Father,  
What is happening to me? I don't remember anything, I can't sleep, I don't eat, I feel sick all the time. What did he do to me? I'm so scared, I think I attacked Harry Potter on the train to school, but I can't remember. If they find out they'll send me to Azkaban, or something, help me, father, please, I beg you.  
Your son,  
Draco  
  
He rolled the parchment up before the tears falling from his eyes could blotch it. He would take it to the owlery later. He was so scared, and he couldn't tell anyone, no one at all. Why couldn't he remember? What had Voldemort done to him in that room a few weeks ago?  
He got up and started to walk towards the dormitory door, but some kind of invisible force pushed him back onto his bed. He tried to get back up, but he couldn't. As much as he struggled he was stuck on the bed. To his amazement and horror, he felt his wand arm move towards the parchment, he tried to stop it, but it wouldn't. Then, an icy coldness spread over his body.  
"Incendio." He heard himself say; but it was not his voice, it was a high, cold voice that he recognised. The piece of parchment in his hand burst into flame and he couldn't move the fingers clasping it. The parchment burnt to ash, and then his fingers let go. Suddenly, a ringing started in his ears and his eyes were blinded; he wanted to yell for help, but he couldn't. Somebody help me! He screamed in his head. Somebody! But no one would help him, he felt the icy coldness creep over him one more time and then he was swamped into darkness.  
  
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R/R please!! Thanks for everyone's reviews, and please keep reading!! 


	7. Confession

Harry made his way quickly up from the Quidditch grounds after Quidditch practise, that afternoon; he wanted to speak to Ron and Hermione desperately. He had decided that he would only tell them about Malfoy and the train if it was crucial for them to know. It was now.  
He had returned to the changing rooms before the others because of a cut on his elbow where a bludger had caught him unawares. It was lucky he had; when he walked into the room, his clothes had been thrown everywhere, and the name tags ripped out. He picked them up quickly and left before anyone could ask where he was going. He had an icy feeling in his stomach as he instantly thought of the person who had done it; Malfoy.  
After a while, Harry sped up, feeling very self conscious as he walked through the almost deserted corridors. He passed the statue of the one-eyed witch and remembered all the times he had sneaked out through the passageway concealed in its hump. He liked thinking of these times, when he had no fears of the present, or of the future, no being afraid to leave the castle in case Lord Voldemort or one of his followers tried to kill him. Harry sighed; those days were long forgotten. Suddenly, he heard footsteps approaching behind him. He spun around, one hand already in his robes, already seeing Malfoy's slitted eyes. But when he turned around, he did not see Malfoy. It was Snape. His long, greasy hair illuminated in the dying sunlight cast through the window, he looked from Harry's face, to Harry's wand, protruding back into his robes quickly. He eyed Harry suspiciously for a moment, and then his face resumed its usual look of loathing.  
"Potter, come with me." He said shortly, he turned on his heel and walked towards a door on his right; Harry followed. He recognised this room as the one in which Fred and George had introduced him to the Marauder's Map. Snape turned to face him.  
"Now, Potter, I would like you to tell me what exactly is going on between yourself and Mr. Malfoy." Harry felt a jolt in the lower regions of his stomach. How did Snape know? Had Malfoy told him? Wait! Harry thought suddenly; don't blurt everything out, he might be playing around something else.  
"Going on?" Harry said calmly, trying to make his face look as though he was politely puzzled.  
"I didn't think there was anything -" Snape's face contracted and looked dangerous.  
"Don't play games with me, Potter!" he snarled, his eyes narrowing. Harry shifted uncomfortable, the cut on his elbow felt painful. Snape took a step closer to him, glancing at the door and then back at Harry.  
"The people in Draco's dormitory say he has been talking in his sleep; shouting in his sleep. And they have all told me what they hear him say." Snape's eyes were boring into his, calculating him. Then with a jolt of horror Harry remembered that Snape was a Leglimens, Lupin had told him he was a superb Leglimens. Harry couldn't close his mind to Snape, he had tried to master Occlumency in his previous year, but hadn't been able to.  
"What do they say?" Harry asked, barely hiding the note of panic in his voice. Snape lent closer.  
"He calls your name, and then says he will kill you." Said Snape, as though these words weren't the point he was trying to get at.  
"What have you been doing to him, Potter?" Snape was not far from Harry now. Harry felt a small burn of anger start in his mind; what had HE done to Malfoy? He hadn't done anything; Malfoy was the one in the wrong!  
"I haven't done anything to Malfoy!" Harry said angrily. Snape's eyes flashed. Surely Malfoy hadn't told Snape that Harry had been attacking him or something? He was the one following Harry around, hoping to get him on his own and then curse him.  
"Potter, just because Professor Dumbledore lets you get away with your arrogance and rule-braking, I certainly won't allow it." Harry could have hit Snape; as usual, he was comparing Harry to his father, James Potter. Harry had indeed seen how arrogant his father had been in his teen years, but he had grown out of it, and Snape loathed Harry with the same hatred and detest. He had always regarded Harry as arrogant, which Harry resented.  
"I haven't done anything." Harry said through clenched teeth.  
  
"I have known you long enough to know that you cannot be trusted, Potter. You are a filthy little liar, who is too cowardly to admit they are in the wrong - " Harry shook with anger as he listened, his ears burning.  
"I'm not the one in the wrong!" Harry shouted, a little more loudly than he had predicted. Snape raised his eyebrows.  
"Oh?" he said, slyly.  
"Then who is?" Harry felt really angry now. Snape had tricked him into telling him. Harry bit his lip nervously, he couldn't tell him; he just couldn't. Snape's lip curled in a sneer.  
"Keep thinking, I'm sure you'll think up something." He taunted. Harry had had enough; Snape was not going to play with him.  
"I think Malfoy attacked me on the train." Harry said quickly, looking Snape straight in the eye. Whatever Snape had expected, it wasn't this.  
"What?" He said, brusquely.  
"On the Hogwarts Express, I saw him and well, my scar - well, it sort of burst, he was coming at me with a wand...and now he's been following me around the school, and my scar always hurts when I see him. And look," he brought out the torn robes he was carrying, and showed them to Snape, revealing the torn labels and ripped material. Snape looked shocked.  
"I've just had Quidditch practise, and when I came back to the changing rooms, these were all over the place. I don't know what he's playing at." Snape looked deep in thought. Suddenly he got up and walked over to the door, he turned and looked Harry in the eye.  
"I must speak with Draco. Potter, be warned, if this information gets into the wrong hands..."  
"But, Professor!" Harry said, but Snape was gone, Harry ran to the door. Snape had vanished. He half-walked, half-ran all the way to Gryffindor Tower, he had to tell Ron and Hermione. He burst through the portrait hole so quickly, he ran straight into Neville, and they both fell over. Harry stood up slightly dazed and helped Neville to his feet.  
"Sorry, Neville." He said apologetically. Neville looked slightly dazed also and swayed slightly. He seemed a bit miserable  
"That's alright, Harry." He sniffed. Harry frowned; he couldn't leave Neville so down  
"Are you OK?" he asked awkwardly. Neville nodded.  
"Yes, I must go Harry, Gran will be here soon." Harry looked puzzled. Neville looked a bit scared, he lent closer to Harry so that no one lese could hear.  
"She's come to see Snape about my Potions OWL!" he squeaked, petrified. Harry clapped a hand on Neville's shoulder and smiled encouragingly.  
"It'll be fine." He lied. Neville smiled weakly and walked past Harry. Harry suddenly remembered why he had rushed up there so quickly. He spotted Hermione and Ron doing homework in a corner and rushed over. Ron looked up and grinned.  
"Oh, Harry! If only you had arrived two minutes earlier, you could have listened to Hermione's lecture on "this year's curriculum in Transfiguration"!" Ron sighed in mock disappointment. Harry waved his hand impatiently.  
"That doesn't matter, listen, I have to tell you something." and he told them. He told them everything, from the train, to his scar, to Malfoy. He showed them the torn robes.  
"I knew it," Ron muttered, pushing his homework away from him.  
"I knew it was him. But Harry, how did he make your scar hurt? Only Voldemort can do that." Harry looked into the fire; how WAS he doing it? Harry couldn't understand, he couldn't fathom the way Malfoy made his scar hurt. Perhaps he was working on Voldemort's orders; his mum and dad were in Voldemort's inner circle.  
"Harry, you've got to go to Dumbledore." Hermione said firmly. Her face had gone quite pale when she was listening to Harry and she seemed very scared.  
"Now." Harry looked at her for a moment, then he turned his gaze back to the fire. How would he tell Dumbledore? Would Dumbledore believe him? Yes, Harry thought defiantly, Dumbledore always believed him; he had always trusted Harry, unlike Snape.  
"After dinner then." He said, looking from one to the other, nodding. They nodded back, not saying anything, their homework deserted on the table.  
  
Plot for chapter:  
  
Snape meets Harry; go into his office. Harry tells Snape about Malfoy. Snape speaks to Malfoy. Malfoy curses Snape Harry tells Ron and Hermione; says he'll tell Dumbledore after dinner. 


	8. Snape's end

Just a quick note to say thanks to everyone for reviewing my story, it's a really big boost to get a note from someone you don't know telling you your works great! Special thanks to Sticky Elf.thanks for following all the way! Thanks everyone else!  
  
Draco waited until the corridors were empty to go to classes now. He hated being around people; he hated the feeling of hatred he felt towards them all. He sat at the back of classrooms and tried to make his brain work instead of playing all his horrible memories through his mind. He ate only in the evenings when the hall was clearing so as not to be spoken to, and he did homework in the dormitory. He was so nervous, that just when he felt sick he thought the icy possession was coming over him again, growing in him, feeding on him; but usually it was because he was hungry or was too tired. He was so tired, he could not remember when he last slept properly; not that he remembered anything anymore, and it was all just a blur.  
That evening, he had just lent around a corner to check if anyone was in the corridor, when he heard a voice calling his name. He jumped, and looked quickly behind him to see Snape striding towards him.  
"Ah, Draco, there you are," he said silkily. He put a hand on Draco's shoulder and started steering him back down the corridor, to his office.  
"I think you and I need a little chat. This way." He led Draco into the office and conjured a chair with his wand. The chair landed softly at Draco's feet. He hesitated, and then sat down. Snape lent on the desk and stared at Draco. Draco didn't look up; Snape might see through him and see the horror corrupting inside him, or the terrible memories that kept on playing in his mind. Instead he stared at the floor.  
"There is something wrong with you, Draco, and I can see it," he said, his voice edged with anxiety. Draco continued to stare at the stone floor.  
"I have just spoken with Potter. Strange tales he told me." Snape's voice faded from Draco's mind as the horribly familiar iciness started creeping up through his body, smothering him. His eyes fell out of focus and the terrible anger rose in his stomach once more, choking him. He felt his hand slip into his robes and he pulled out his wand, uncontrollably. He gripped it tight. Then, the coldness crept up around his neck, around his face, past his mouth, up to his eyes, so close.  
He stood up, his eyes narrowing as they fixed on Snape. He was raising his wand, pointing it at him.  
"Crucio!" he cried. He couldn't think; he couldn't stop it! Then he started to laugh, a high pitched mirthless laugh, echoing around the dungeon. But as soon as he stopped laughing and shuddering began all over his body, he was shivering, he was so cold, and then so hot! He was burning, burning as though every nerve in him was on fire. He couldn't stop it, it was controlling him! And then the pain reached its peak and he felt like he had exploded. He knew now, he knew it had taken him.  
He shut his eyes and opened them sharply. He smiled; smiled a terrible, malicious smile and pulled his wand away from the jerking, twitching Snape. Snape lay in a crumpled heap on the floor and tried to get up. Draco walked around him.  
"Expelliarmus!" he pointed his wand at the slouched figure, lazily. Snape's wand flew out of his hand and landed softly in Draco's outstretched hand. He waved his wand at it and what seemed like a rope of flame wrapped itself around the thin piece of wood, and it burst into flames. He continued to walk around Snape who had looked up at him.  
"So," said Draco slyly.  
"This is where you've been hiding all these years, Severus." Snape's black eyes were widening in horror.  
"What are you doing?" he gasped, trying to stand up.  
"Who are you?" Draco laughed softly.  
"Crucio." He muttered, sighing. Snape was thrown back onto the floor and began to writhe and shriek again, as though every nerve in his body was on fire. Draco began to laugh once more in that uncharacteristically high voice. He lifted his wand. He grabbed the trembling Snape and threw him against the wall, laughing softly in his ear.  
"Who am I?" he mocked, and then his voice turned angry.  
"Forgotten already, Snape? Forgotten your vow to serve me eternally? Dismissed me as though I was a common servant!" He threw Snape back onto the floor, his face full of loathing.  
"Licaratus!" he yelled spitefully. The spell hit Snape's foot and immediately the shoe covering his foot started to turn a steely, grey colour, and then what looked like molten steel began to creep up his ankle. Snape sat up and jerked his leg away from him, but with some effort; the foot seemed very heavy. The molten steel was creeping up his leg now and Snape was trying to push it off but it didn't stop. In a matter of seconds it was climbing up his chest; Snape clutched at it, and his breathing became short and strangled. Past his collar; He clutched desperately at his throat, scratching at the steel covering him. Up to his chin, past his mouth, past his nose. His eyes looked so terrified, so helpless that Draco laughed louder, enjoying watching Snape so fearful. As the molten steel covered the last strand of greasy black hair on Snape's head, Snape was nothing more than a statue; a statue expressing the obvious pain and fear he had felt. Draco left the statue for a moment, watching with glee as it glinted in the firelight. His laugh decreased to a soft chuckle and he raised his wand once more, muttered a few words, and the molten steel suffocating Snape slithered off of him leaving him gasping and retching on the ground.  
"Remember that one, Severus?" Draco asked softly, moving closer to the panting, crouched figure.  
"One of your favourites, I recall." He began walking around Snape once more, then he flicked his wand and Snape was thrown into his desk. Draco strode over and lent next to the twitching man.  
"Let me give you a hand." He said silkily, one of his hands protruding towards Snape. Snape lifted his head, his eyes watering with pain and fear.  
"You!" he whispered, still violently shaking. Draco chuckled softly once more and grabbed his arm. Snape shrieked as though his arm had just been burnt off. Draco's grin widened as he ripped the arm of Snape's black robes off, and stared at the ugly mark burning jet-black on Snape's forearm. He laid one finger playfully on Snape's arm and circled the Dark Mark burning upon it. Snape turned his eyes to Draco's face once more, trying to read the expression on it. Draco carried on encircling the mark, almost lovingly. Then his eyes darted to Snape's, malice corrupting inside them.  
"Shall I?" he asked playfully, drawing his finger dangerously close to the mark.  
"Why! We could have a little reunion; invite all our old friends. I'm sure they'd all be glad to see you, to express their gratitude to you for being so loyal." He lifted his finger and let it linger closely above the mark. He began to laugh again, softly, cruelly, and stood up, withdrawing his finger.  
"Arcitis!" he cried, angry once more. Snape watched in horror as his hands changed from smooth skin, to wrinkly, blemished, knotted fingers. Snape raised the elderly hands to his face and his eyes widened in shock. Draco seemed amused at Snape's disbelief.  
"I hear you are Potions Master here in the school, Severus." He spat, a cruel smile curling his mouth.  
"But what is a potion maker without his hands?" he began to laugh again; that cold, mirthless laugh. Snape put his elderly hands to his ears, trying to block the sound.  
"No." he whispered shakily.  
"Please, no." Draco laughed louder, and harder. His voice echoed around the office immensely. Snape drew his knees to him and curled his arms around them, shaking.  
"Your pleading does not soften me, Severus; I have no mercy for you." He threw back his head in disgust.  
"You would have gone far with me, but it seems Dumbledore must have won you over in the end..." He bent down so he was facing Snape.  
"Where is Dumbledore now, Severus?" Snape looked into the slit- like eyes and admitted defeat. Where was Dumbledore? Then a surge of strength rose up in the weak man and he propped himself up against the desk.  
"Unlike you," Snape choked.  
"I don't need other people to fight my battles for me." For a moment Draco looked as though he had been slapped very hard in the face, but then he regained himself and put on a very strained smile.  
"You were foolish to meddle with me, Severus, very foolish." He raised his wand, and spoke those fatal words, clearly, and simply.  
"Avada Kedavra!" A flash of green light shot from Draco's wand and glowed brightly around Snape for a moment, and then vanished. Snape was dead.  
Draco laughed softly and stood over the lifeless body. He made his way up the corridor, and when he passed through the entrance to the Entrance Hall, and towards the great oak doors to the Great Hall, he thought to himself: Who will stop me now? He is mine; Harry Potter is mine! 


	9. The Attack

As Harry made his way down to the Great Hall that evening, he was very glad he had Hermione and Ron with him; Malfoy wouldn't attack him when there were other people around. Harry's had begun burning lightly, he didn't feel nauseous or overpowered though, he just felt very self-conscious. Ron and Hermione seemed to recognise this, as Harry frequently looked over his shoulder and looked rather apprehensive.  
"Look, Harry," said Ron, sounding slightly exasperated.  
"Malfoy isn't going to do you in when we're around, is he?" Harry smiled apologetically, but it failed to mask the fear he felt inside. Was it Malfoy? He thought, panic rising through his body. Was it really Malfoy doing all of this? He swallowed hard as he remembered the black slits in Malfoy's eyes, the slits that resembled Voldemort's eyes so clearly.  
"It's OK, Harry," Hermione said soothingly. Harry looked at her; she obviously didn't think it was OK as her eyes were full of the same fear Harry was feeling. She touched his arm softly.  
"Dumbledore will sort it out, it'll be alright." Harry felt slightly more reassured; yes, Dumbledore would sort it out.  
But when they entered the Great Hall, Harry could not see Dumbledore on the staff table. He looked at Ron and Hermione. Ron shrugged in a 'don't worry about it' sort of fashion. Harry slowly let out his breath, it's OK, he thought, I'll see him later. The three of them went and sat at the Gryffindor table and helped themselves to beef casserole. Harry did not feel hungry, but he ate anyway. They chatted idly about the forthcoming Quidditch match and Harry felt a little more relaxed. He was just helping himself to more potatoes when an enormous blast of sound surrounded his ears.  
BANG!  
Harry, like everyone else stared at the empty space where the two, grand oak doors had stood moments ago. There he was wand in his hand, Draco Malfoy, his slit-like eyes fixed on Harry. Harry's scar seared with a terrible pain; hot and pummelling at his head. He heard Hermione's gasp and felt her hands shaking him. And then he heard it.  
A laugh so terrible, so mirthless it cut through the silence of the room like a knife. Fear seizing Harry, he stared into those terrible eyes. Draco pointed his wand at Harry and smiled an ugly, malicious smile.  
"ACCIO!" he cried. Harry felt his body leave the table, and he was thrown through the air and landed painfully at Malfoy's feet. His arm snapped horribly under his weight. He let out a muffled yell. Draco laughed even louder. Harry raised his head and tried to get up, but he couldn't, his arm was so painful he couldn't put weight on it. He knelt instead, and saw Draco raise his wand in the air. The tables of students were all shrieking, staring horrified at Malfoy. Harry tried to see Hermione and Ron, but he couldn't, people were moving around everywhere, blocking Harry's vision.  
"Immortify!" Harry heard Draco yell. Suddenly, every person in the hall collapsed. Either onto the floor, or onto the table, they fell, as though made of stone. Harry stared around in horror; they all looked dead! They're eyes open, expressions blank, motionless. Harry looked up at Draco, his face stained with pain.  
"You've killed them! You've killed them all!" he whispered in disbelief. Malfoy laughed softly.  
"Oh their not dead, Potter," he said lazily.  
"Just stunned. Clever, isn't it? No one to save you now!" His eyes flamed, his mad grin widened. He flinched as the pain in his scar intensified. Then, suddenly, a jet of red light shot across the room towards Draco. Draco ducked with a roar of anguish. He stared around, his eyes narrowing as he caught sight of the three figures approaching him. Harry saw with a dash of relief spread through him, Professor's Flitwick, McGonagall and Sinstra dashing towards him and Draco.  
"Surround him!" Harry heard Professor McGonagall say loudly, her voice edged with fear. Draco began to laugh again, in the same high- pitched voice, Harry took his chance, he flung himself sideways into Draco's legs, and he toppled over. Harry felt a foot smash into his face and he let out a painful groan. He could feel blood coming out of his nose, and a bruise swelling up in his cheek. His ears seemed slightly blocked; he swallowed and recovered his hearing. He opened his eyes and saw with a surge of helplessness, all three professors's lying on the floor, not moving.  
"No!" Harry breathed, trying to scramble over him, but before he had even reached any of them -  
"Crucio!" Harry felt as though he had just been set alight. His very bones were burning, he was screaming, screaming from his lungs, he couldn't stand it, he wanted it to end, to die! The pain was so excruciating, that Harry felt he was dying, please! He was screaming in his head. Please! Let it be soon, let it be now! But then the pain disappeared and he was back on the floor of the Great Hall. He was still twitching and shaking violently. He turned his head to Draco who didn't seem to be looking at Harry. He heard him let out a great cry of anger. Harry didn't understand; he turned his head to see what Draco was looking at.  
"DUMBLEDORE!" roared Draco, his face angry and loathsome. It was indeed Dumbledore; Harry wanted to scream "help me! Save me!" but he knew he couldn't. Dumbledore took one quick look at the hall and the students, and then turned to Draco, finally understanding. He twirled his wand dangerously and a silver jet shot from it, hitting Draco in the chest, throwing him off of his feet. Then he looked at Harry, his face broke into a fearful gasp.  
"Harry!" Dumbledore cried, fear etched across his lined face. His eyes were wide with horror. He ran forward, but Draco was too quick for him, he jumped up and pointed his wand at Dumbledore and twirled it swiftly. A jet of what looked like jagged; shining ice shot out of his wand and wrapped itself around Dumbledore.  
The pain in Harry's scar was so intense now, he thought his head might split in two very soon. He turned his eyes to Dumbledore who was just a blur, cocooned in thick, opaque ice. He was still, nothing stirred inside the ice. No! Harry screamed to himself. No, please, don't let him be dead! He felt a rush of helplessness sweep over him as he looked at the still figure; helplessness and grief.  
"Dumbledore!" Harry yelled, in a croaky voice. He could feel tears stating to brim in his eyes, he started to run towards him, forgetting everything, just wanting to reach him. But he felt an arm reach out and grab him, painfully hard. He was jerked backwards, and as the hand clenching his arm remained there, his scar seared with even more pain, white-hot and unbearable. He screwed up his eyes against the pain almost blinding him, with the lasts of his strength, he tried to push the hand away from him, but it was firm and gripping him tightly.  
"Ah-ah." Came Draco's cold, sneering voice as he shook his head playfully. Harry raised his head slowly to look at him; he was shaking with pain, shaking with anger. Draco's blue eyes burned around the slits in the centre of them as he narrowed them, and his mouth curled into a malicious, terrible grin.  
"Time to go, Potter!" he said, the grin widening. Suddenly, an enormous crash sounded behind them, the air was filled with a diminuendo of hisses. They both spun around. Dumbledore was standing, clearly unharmed, in a white mist spreading through the room. He eyes darted quickly from Malfoy to Harry, and then as though taking a double-take, back to Draco. His eyes lingered in Draco's for a split-second then widened in terror. Now fear spread across his face as he looked at him.  
"No." he whispered in disbelief. Malfoy threw back his head, his blonde hair ruffled, and laughed a cold, high-pitched mirthless laugh; this laugh sounded horribly familiar, but it couldn't be.  
"You are defeated, Dumbledore!" he shrieked, his eyes shining with savage pleasure. He looked victorious, even slightly mad.  
"Your efforts have been wasted, your foolish little enchantments have worked for a while, but surely, surely you didn't think that things wouldn't be this way? Your prophecy was the result of a fool's hope. You always knew that the Dark Lord would prevail, that I would rise above all wizards, even you, Dumbledore. You are defeated!" he finished, laughing the cold, high pitched laugh again. Then he raised his arm in the air.  
"No!" Dumbledore yelled, staring into Harry's eyes. Harry already read their expression; he was saying sorry already. He was already apologizing for what was going to happen to Harry, he was showing the helplessness that Harry felt so strongly in his heart. Don't! Harry wanted to yell; don't say sorry yet, don't give up! Harry flung out an arm, but it was useless. As he heard Draco scream a few words to his wand, he heard Dumbledore's voice one more time.  
"Harry!" The light blue eyes filled with tears, as Harry stared in helpless disbelief into them. But the room had dissolved into bright-white light, and all Harry felt was the terrible pain in his scar, pummelling at his head.  
  
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R/R please!! I'd really appreciate it!! 


	10. Realisation

A/N: Hiya chums!! I am SO sorry for the long wait! I've just got back to school and things have been a bit hectic, but it's alright now!!! Sorry again, hope you enjoy!!! READ ON!! . . .  
  
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A few seconds later, he felt himself slam into hard, cold ground. He kept his eyes shut; not wanting to see what was in front of him, or around him. There was no noise, no Dumbledore's voice calling to him, just silence. But a few moments later the silence was broken by a soft, terrible laugh.  
  
Harry turned himself over onto his elbows, his face still screwed up against the pain emitting so immensely from his scar. He opened his eyes slowly, gasping, but only taking short, ragged breaths. Draco was standing there, slitted eyes gleaming, and his malicious smile still in place.  
  
"Now this is better, Harry." He said in a voice quite unlike his own; it was cold, mirthless.  
  
Harry looked around the room and saw that it was empty; and bare. The paint was cracked upon the crumbling walls and the windows were smashed and boarded up. The room looked dull, even sad to Harry; there was no furniture except for one tall armchair facing the empty, cobwebbed fireplace. The armchair triggered a memory in Harry's mind, from quite long ago, he remembered that exact chair. Yes, he had seen it in a dream, twice in fact; iciness flitted around his heart as he remembered who had been sitting in that chair. Voldemort. He tore his eyes away from the chair and set them upon Draco who had the same malicious sneer set upon his pale face.  
  
"Please forgive me for the state of which my home is in, Harry." He flicked a speck of dust off of his robes, and looked around the cracked and splintered walls.  
  
"You see, I have been in hiding here for the past three years, but I rather thought a change of scenery would be better for the headquarters of the Dark Order, considering Dumbledore would no doubt discover my whereabouts soon enough." He began to pace around the room, his footsteps echoing around the peeling walls.  
  
"We thought somewhere more - how should I put it? - less obvious would be more suitable. So we moved to a more secure location, that of Number. 12. Grimmauld Place. Do you know that house, Harry?" he asked in mock surprise, seeing the expression of horror that passed over Harry's face.  
  
Harry's heart skipped a beat. Grimmauld Place? But that was where everyone was; where Lupin and Tonks, and Moody and all of the members of the Order were! But if the Death Eaters had gone there, then Lupin and the others must all have been -  
  
"Dead, Harry." Draco said softly, a thin smile curling his mouth. Harry felt very constricted of breath; a sudden iciness wrapped itself around his heart and he struggled to his feet, the corners of his eyes prickling slightly. He raised his head in disbelief. He's lying, Harry thought desperately. It's a trap, they're not dead. But somewhere, in the back of Harry's painful, throbbing mind, he knew he was wrong: how could they have survived against the Death Eaters? They would have been outnumbered, and Dumbledore wasn't with them, he was at Hogwarts. No! Harry's brain screamed at him, as he saw in his mind Lupin's kind, lined face, his eyes expressionless and empty. Please, God, no! He felt so helpless, as his scar seared with even more pain he couldn't think through the pain and the sadness. But Draco's soft chuckles enraged him, incensed his mind, his strength.  
  
"Who are you?" he breathed, his eyes penetrating the deep, dark slits. He did not move his eyes, he did not fear Draco; he wanted to kill him, or whoever he was. He blinked the glazed layer away from his eyes, and concentrated on that face, no matter how much pain he had to endure. An insane grin splashed across Draco's face and his eyes flared.  
  
"Come on, Potter," he laughed, stepping towards Harry and raising his wand. Harry did not move, he did not step away from him. He screwed up his eyes against the ever increasing pain in his forehead.  
  
"Don't tell me you haven't worked it out yet? Who else would enjoy killing you this much? Who else would go to all lengths to see that your foolish name is stamped out and your pretty little face shattered?" The grin on his face was so wide now; it was frightening to watch him as he advanced towards Harry. He raised his voice so that he spoke, loudly and powerfully and it echoed around the room in a chorus of vindictive pleasure.  
  
"Who else, Harry, has wanted to rip you limb from limb since the day you were born?! ME! Yes, Harry! Lord Voldemort, the only wizard who has been feared by all, who has risen so far above the Dark Order! Me." He let out a long, satisfied sigh and stepped even closer to Harry. Harry could feel his breath upon his face; feel the pleasure rising off of Malfoy. He felt something pointed pushing softly into his stomach; he looked down and saw Draco's wand clasped tightly in his fingers, pressing into Harry. He looked back up at Draco, searching for an answer; but not pleading, he would not beg for mercy. He would fight. He couldn't stand it anymore, he wasn't going to just stand there and eventually die of the terrible pain he was feeling.  
  
In one swift movement, Harry threw himself into Draco, knocking them both to the floor. He wrestled on top of him then started punching him, kicking him, scratching him; hurting him. He wanted to hurt him so much. He shoved his arm roughly against Draco's throat and held it there, gasping as his scar burnt as though it was alight. Malfoy's face had gone rather red but he wasn't gasping or trying to push Harry off, he just laughed, spluttering slightly. Harry couldn't stand it. He took his arm away and grabbed Draco's collar, and yanked at it.  
  
Suddenly, Harry felt a force as strong as a ferocious wind hit his stomach. He couldn't breathe, he was totally winded. His head was spinning. He was launched off of the floor and thrown through the air until he hit the hard, splintery wall; he fell to the floor with a soft thump, barely conscious. Death would have been the aid he wanted, he needed. He didn't want to feel this pain anymore, he wanted it to vanish, he wanted his life to vanish. He saw a foot come out of nowhere and collide with his face. He blinked the blood out of his eyes and squinted at Draco's outline, looming over him. He was picked up and thrown against the cracking wall once more, blood leaking from a cut on his lip.  
  
"I know, I know, Harry. Pain hurts doesn't it?" Harry's head lolled thickly around his shoulder, and he rested it against his chest. No more, he thought. Please, no more. He heard footsteps quickly approaching and he raised his head to look at the blonde hair, and pointed features. Draco tilted his head slightly.  
  
"I must look different to when we last met, Harry." He sneered.  
  
"I must admit, I do feel strange in a different body, especially one of a child's." Harry felt the anger rising in him again. He propped himself up, and stared hard into Draco's eyes.  
  
"It looks better," he said, smiling grimly slightly through the pain. The smallest of frowns passed over Draco's face as he surveyed Harry with narrowed eyes.  
  
"You look more human, less hideous." Harry laughed slightly, seeing the look of anger blotching Draco's cheeks. Draco raised his wand in a flash.  
"I think we'd better go somewhere else, Potter," he spat, repulsion on his face. He lent down and pulled Harry to his feet with strangely powerful hands.  
"No doubt Dumbledore will be here soon, but I have a better plan. Oh, yes, not even he can save you now - " He suddenly jerked Harry's head back by his hair and Harry felt his cold face lean towards him. Draco inhaled the smell of Harry's hair then lent even closer, touching his cheek with his face.  
"How long I have wanted this, Potter, you will never understand. My Death Eater's call it my obsession, but it is more than that, so much more. . . if only you could see, if only you could know. . .Harry flinched and clenched his eyes shut as a foot thumped into his back, he could feel the bruise rising already.  
"Right then, Harry!" he hissed, his cold eyes flaming once more. He raised his wand into the air and yelled a few words to it, and then Harry saw the blinding white light once more and fell towards it.  
  
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Well? Sorry again for such a long wait!! Thanks for all my reviews!! Keep reviewing and I'll keep writing!! Thanks ever so much! Review please!! I'd really appreciate it!! Thanks!! Luvs Helma  
x 


	11. Guilt

Sorry I took so long, you guys!! :)  
  
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For a short moment, Harry shook terribly. He looked down at the freezing ground upon which he lay, and felt his hair being torn around in the vicious wind. Bitter snowflakes fell from the clouds and were spat against his face in the wind, and the sleet. The cold penetrated his skin, and he could feel his body growing numb as the snowy floor entrapped him.  
  
He struggled to his feet, squinting against the white mist of snow and wind in front of him, searching for a sign to show where he was. He was shivering immensely and raised a shaking hand to his forehead to try and shield his face, but he felt the throbbing, excruciating pain from the scar on his forehead and it flopped back down to his side.  
  
WHAM!  
  
Harry felt a foot as hard as steel crash into his back and he was knocked to the ground. His spine twinged unpleasantly and Harry gasped to catch his stolen breath, the cold air writhing in his lungs.  
  
"Cold, Harry?" said a sneering voice behind him, through the raging blizzard around them. Shivering uncontrollably, Harry got back up, his back searing with a bruising pain. He flinched as his scar pulsed like his heartbeat, but with thumps instead of beats. He raised his emerald green eyes to his attacker.  
  
Draco looked lazily satisfied with Harry's pain; he smiled mockingly when he stood up, and continued to sneer at Harry's slouched poise.  
  
"Well? Are you?" He asked, mock concern smothering his pointed, pale face.  
  
"You've just suffered a great shock Harry, I mean, all of your friends are dead, and you have no one!" He laughed terribly. Harry's body would have happily given in then, would have willingly collapsed and invited death, but his mind was not so easily persuaded.  
  
He had never felt so guilty in his entire life. It was a guilt that fed upon his heart, his soul, his very being, that tortured him now; not the pain. He no longer cared about his life, or whether he would survive or not, he just saw the faces in his mind of his friends and the people who had died to protect him. He fell to the floor and curled his arms around his legs and brought them up to his chin, and then he let the tears fall. Spilling from his eyes like a waterfall they streamed down his face and onto the snow beneath him. He cried for his parents, he cried for Cedric, he cried for Lupin and Tonks and Moody, he cried for Sirius and for the Weasleys. He wanted to scream the life out of him, to kill his soul, to destroy this horrible feeling inside him.  
  
He wanted to see Hermione and Ron one more time, just to be with them. But they wouldn't understand, surely they would turn from him now, now that he was responsible for so many deaths; it was all his fault, Dumbledore was wrong, he was their downfall not their hope, in the end, he had killed them all. He could hear Draco laughing loudly, as the wind whistled through his ears; he could feel him standing above him. Suddenly Harry jumped to his knees and flung himself at Draco, grabbing his waist, tears blinding him, his sobs muffled.  
  
"KILL ME!" he screamed at Draco, who's laughing intensified.  
  
"KILL ME NOW!" he rammed his shoulder into Draco's body and knocked him off his feet. Then, he scrambled over and grabbed his collar. Draco hit Harry hard across the cheek, causing blood to trickle from a deep gash upon it, but he didn't care.  
  
"IT'S WHAT I WANT!" he sobbed, clutching Draco's robes tightly in his fists, pulling him closer. Draco hit Harry again, harder and with more force. Harry was knocked back, the sour taste of blood caressing his mouth. Draco raised his wand once more and yelled something to it, grabbing Harry's arm at the same time. Bright light blinded their gazes . . . .  
  
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Thanks for my reviews everyone!! :) I really appreciate them!! Please keep reading and reviewing...the end is near!!  
  
Individual thankies:  
  
Allanah - thanks, never fear, the end is coming, very soon. . .I just like to keep  
you waiting! :) and sorry about the long wait!!  
  
Cestari - thanks! I know, I never thought I could write a story that made Draco look  
Good, but just wait and see, my friend!!  
  
Khenna - thanks very much!! Will do! :)  
  
Alexandria Wood - thankyou! Ah well, my cliffhangers have their reasons, and  
don't worry, the end is coming! :)  
  
Emerald Prongs - Cool name! thanks very much, sorry I kept you waiting so long :)  
  
Juicy-Juice - It's coming!! :) Keep reading!  
  
Rayne-Jelly - Yeah, sorry about them! Keep reading!!:)  
  
Luvaboydan*Hesmyman - thanks, me dear, keep reading!! :) 


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